Boys Will Be Boys
by TheBlueFoxtrot A Samba
Summary: Boys will be boys. That is usually said when boys do something incredibly violent, incredibly stupid, or just violently stupid. Being a superhero doesn't really come into play with that fact. Oneshot


Crayola Challenge: Prompt #20 is Burgundy. Random Prompt #19 is "Flat Tire" and emotion #5 Intrigued

Disclaimer: I used up all of my clever wit on the story so I don't own diddly squat.

Very fortunate that I recently read a Teen Titans comic; I might not have thought of this idea. Because it's an incredibly bad one.

**oOo**

There were only so many things two teenage boys could do when left mostly unsupervised in a mansion with one lone, albeit awesome butler as supervision. Granted, when the mansion belonged to one of the biggest bank rollers on the planet, that still left them with a lot of options. And yes, these two weren't the average teens. The one was Richard Grayson, child prodigy, known on the side to few as Robin, apprentice to the Dark Knight. The other was Wally West, science brain, and mini-speedster extraordinaire Kid Flash.

When it came to civilian matters, the genius and speedster with a mind that ran a mile a minute had the collective attention span of two gnats. The massive game-room filled with every gaming system and video game any boy could ever desire had the boys' trying to find something which to occupy themselves. The dark-haired boy slumped across a chair as his guest held up the last game from the shelves.

"What about Call of Duty?"

"We beat that."

The game was tossed over his shoulder, more or less on the haphazard pile of discarded games.

"Tropic Thunder?"

"Seen it eight times."

Another toss.

"Prank call Ashton again?"

"I'm pretty sure he's wise to us."

Wally banged his head against the shelf once and heaved an aggravated sigh.

"Wanna blow something up?"

That immediately perked Richard up.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Dude, I was joking."

He turned around and raised a brow at the excited look on the younger boy's face.

"Seriously. We're not blowing anything up. At least not yet. And if we do, put my school on that list."

Wally almost felt bad as his face morphed to sullen disappointment. Almost, but then he shook it off.

"All right," Dick agreed, a little miffed at Wally for waving the prospect of an explosion in his face only to snatch it away. "But what _are _we going to do though?"

"I don't know. What do you want to do?"

"I don't know either. What do _you_ want to do?"

"I don't – I have no idea. Man. When did your place get so lame?"

"My place is not lame! Besides, it's more Bruce's place."

"Yeah, but this is, like, your room so it's _your place_. It's not like Bruce plays any of these games."

Dick widened blue eyes and looked up and away.

"No way."

Wally looked at one of the over-stuffed chairs and tried to imagine Batman glaring intently at a tv screen filled with zombies, armed with a knife – because the Bat _didn't like guns_ which just made it freakier because who kills zombies with _knives_? – and grenades.

"That. Is. So…hinky"

"Not as much as the tournaments he has against Clark."

Superman…playing video games…with the Batman. What an awesome and freaky thought.

"Are you messing with me?"

The Boy Wonder merely looked at him. The speedster narrowed his eyes in a glare.

"I hate you."

He shrugged and casually brushed imaginary dirt off of his shoulder. "So does that mean you don't want to get a close-up look at Bruce's newest joyride?"

Dick blinked, and Wally was in front of him. The next second, he was being dragged by down the mansion halls.

**oOo**

He couldn't tear his gaze away; his eyes were looking a little glazed to Dick. He couldn't catch his breath; he absently thought he might need an inhaler. His legs felt shaky, almost like jelly; they threatened to buckle under him any second. His head felt light-headed; fainting wasn't a terribly far possibility.

She was outright sexy. She was hot and had curves in all the right places. Her design captivated him in ways he never thought a car could. Even the color intrigued him, and he'd never considered himself much of a burgundy man. But on a Lamborghini Aventador LP700-4, its charm was intoxicating.

However, typical to boys Wally's age, he handled his enthrallment in the way they usually do. It would not be described with finesse in the slightest.

Nearly hysterical, Wally practically lunged at it, then halted, tipped precariously over the hood. He looked over his shoulder at Robin.

"It's not gonna, like, electrocute me if I touch it, is it?"

Grinning a little too innocently, he said, "Of course not."

Wally looked uncertainly between his friend and the car.

"I seriously can't tell if you're lying right now."

Dick hit a button, and the car beeped.

"Don't worry; it's safe now."

Practically squealing, Wally completed his lunge towards the car. He stopped shy of actually jumping on it – it was a flippin' Lambo; no jumpy on the Lamborghini! – and zipped around it, muttering in super-speed about how 'beautifulit'ssoprettyI'' and other things Dick couldn't even hope to understand if he'd run it through his glove computer.

He blinked, and Wally was in front of him – he briefly thought he should stop blinking so much – and put his hands on his shoulders.

"You have got to let me sit in it! I'll so be your best friend for life!"

"Yeah, don't say that _ever._"

The burgundy beauty beeped again, and the doors slid up silently.

Wally hugged him before he could stop him then basically skipped to the car. Dick shuddered at the close contact and breach of his personal space then climbed into the passenger seat. Wally oohed and drooled and awed over every aspect of the car, down to the stitching.

Now, Dick could appreciate a fine machine or piece of tech just fine. But Wally seemed about ready to drive the car down the aisle and exchange vows.

Eventually, as it was bound to happen, Wally said – in a somewhat desperate, breathless voice - ,

"You have to let me start it! I'll so name my first kid after you."

Then he paused.

"Richard West…" glancing away with shifty eyes, he amended his statement, "I mean, I'll so name his middle name after yours."

Dick rolled his eyes. "Grayson West."

"Deal!"

Dick really should have known better. Perhaps he did. Yet maybe the boredom had just numbed that portion of reason in his brain. Yes, maybe that's it; that is what allowed him to casually toss the keys to his ginger headed, speed obsessed friend. As he did so, he literally thought,

'What's the worst that could happen?'

Somehow achieving pomp and reverence at the same time, Wally slid the key into the ignition ever so delicately. Dick didn't think he was breathing the whole while. Slowly, he lifted his hand to press the ignition button. The engine roared to life, and Wally gasped. It rested to an idle purr, and Wally melted.

"Oh. Baby," Wally crooned, stroking the wheel affectionately.

Eyeballing him sideways, Dick said, "You are weird. It's just a car."

"Aw, no, baby. Don't listen to him. He's just a child. I know you're special. Yes, you are. I know."

Dick watched his friend nuzzle the steering wheel, caress the dashboard, and was officially creeped out.

"Please stop doing that."

Wally suddenly turned bright, green eyes on his friend.

"You have to let me drive it! I'll –"

"No way! Bruce will do terrible things to me and make me wish he killed me."

"But…I'm your best friend for life. I'm naming my kid's middle name after you."

Dick glared. Wally pouted. He slumped forward and just made himself look downright pathetic. Then he sniffed, and Dick's eyes widened in horror.

"Dude, don't you dare start cyring!"

"Just a little drive? I won't even leave the grounds?

"Do you even have a _permit_?"

"Uhm…What?" the engine revved suddenly, filling the interior. "I can't hear you!"

When two teenaged boys are left alone with only the supervision of a lone, albeit awesome butler in one ginormous house and even if said boys are superheroes, they are bound to do something incredibly stupid.

It is a fact that driving on a flat tire is a bad idea. Obviously, if it weren't, tires would already be flat. Driving on a flat tire will damage the rim of the tire, meaning it will either have to be replaced or if possible repaired. A flat tire is a terrible predicament as it is. However, _two _flat tires on a back road in the middle of the night with the only souls around being the driver and passenger who are in fact underage, unlicensed car thief and his accomplice of a car that cost well over a quarter-million dollars…well, that just went beyond all hope of definition.

Wally stood up from inspecting the front tire and put his hands on his hips.

"Well, that turned rather disastrous."

Dick turned accusatory eyes on him from his perch on the hood of the car; Wally had nearly dropped over in a heart attack when he did that.

"You said you wouldn't leave the yard."

"No, I said I wouldn't leave the grounds. You told me Bruce owns all of this area so still on the grounds."

"Idiot. This is all your fault."

"Oh, sure. Blame me. _I'm _not the one who gave me the keys to the thing!"

"You were acting pathetic and naming your kid after me," Dick flipped off of the car to land in front of Wally. He jabbed a finger at the older boy. "You guilt-tripped me!"

Wally swatted it away and sidestepped him.

"Well, you should have fallen for it, Boy Blunder!"

"Whatever, Speedy."

Now, Dick was just trying to make him mad. _That_ had worked.

"How do you not know how to change a tire? You're freaking _you_!"

"I could say the same to you Mr. I-blew-up-a-lab-to-get-my-powers!"

"I'm – you – that was totally different! I hardly even ride in cars so why would I know how to change them?"

The boys had seemingly forgotten or neglected that two tires were needed. Few cars carried two spare tires. This particular Lamborghini wasn't an exception.

"Oh, that's right! You only know useless information. When would you have had time to learn something important in between flirting with Artemis and using Megan to make her jealous?"

"Hey, that's not…wait…I DO NOT FLIRT WITH HER!"

"Yes, you do," Dick said deliberately.

"You're out of your _tiny mind_! I can't stand that – that aggravating _girl_! And I actually like Megan; I'm not using her."

"If you say so."

"No, I say so because it is so! I. Don't. Like. Artemis!"

All was silent after that insistent yell. The only sound up in Bat country were – surprise, surprise – owls. The area was lousy with them. Dick stared at Wally, his face matching the color of his hair. He dropped his gaze and kicked at the ground with toe of his sneakers.

"Okay, Wally. Don't have to yell."

Wally took a few calming breaths and glanced away as well.

"Yeah. Sorry," he quickly muttered.

"Me, too. And I swear I won't talk about you liking Artemis again…or how she's crushing on you. Are we cool?"

Dick held an arm out, and Wally reached his out, the two quickly clasping each other's forearms and letting go.

"We're cool. We both overre – did you say Artemis had a crush on me?"

"Dude," Dick held his hands in the classic 'I'm harmless' position, "I swore I wouldn't talk about it."

"Yeah, but –" Wally caught sight of the evil, _evil _smirk on the younger boy's face. "Oh, I really hate you."

A huge clap of thunder rumbled in the distance. Wally threw up his hands toward the sky and tilted his head back.

"Seriously? It's going to rain now? On top of everything else, we're gonna get caught in a freaking downpour, catch pneumonia, and die!"

"I hate to shatter that lovely dream, but that isn't thunder."

"What do you –"

Wally froze like a deer caught in headlight. Not too far from the truth as he was suddenly blinded by pair.

He couldn't tear his gaze away; his eyes were looking a little glazed to Dick. He couldn't catch his breath; he absently thought he might need an inhaler. His legs felt shaky, almost like jelly; they threatened to buckle under him any second. His head felt light-headed; fainting wasn't a terribly far possibility.

Batman was glaring down at them in all his unholy glory from next to that wild beast he called a car. Wally was intrigued by the fact he couldn't seem to move his limbs. He was completely sure he was ordering them to turn him around and run the freak away, but they wouldn't listen.

Dick, he noticed, had no such problem. Rather than run away like most sane people when faced with that silent look of terror – honestly, the man must practice that look in the mirror –, he stepped forward, rubbing his neck nervously. He chuckled with none of the humor he usually had and said,

"So…what had happened was –"

Apparently, Batman had already received his share of bull crap stories for the night and cut his boy off before he could start.

"You're both grounded indefinitely."

_That _snapped Wally out of it. He rounded on Batman with all the righteous indignation of a teenager."

"Hold up. You can't ground me. I'm not your –"

Apparently, Batman had already gotten his fill of obviously guilty people telling him what he could and could not do.

He looked at Wally, and the boy saw hellfire.

"You. Are. Grounded."

"Yes, sir," he squeaked, properly cowed.

"Go home now."

"Sir, yes, sir."

Not even sparing a glance to his friend or his precious Lambo, he was gone. Leaving Dick alone with one none-too-happy Bat.

"Saying I love you and calling you Daddy isn't going to help me, is it?"

"Just what do you honestly think?"

Dick looked up and away. Next thing either of them knew, the boy was hugging the man's waist.

"I love you, Dad!"

"Still grounded."

"Amsterdammit!"

**oOo**

"I know you're not a babysitter, Alfred, but why didn't you keep a better eye on them?"

"Forgive me, Master Bruce. Indeed I should have. However, the Templar dogs wouldn't see fit to impale themselves on their own."

A look of genuine interest breached that ever cool mask of granite Bruce Wayne called a face.

"How far did you get?"

* * *

><p>Edit: Alfred is talking about Assassin's Creed, which is a video game.<p> 


End file.
